Bert and I went to look at the apartment tonight. I have to admit that it appeals to me. I still have reservations, and am by no means certain that this is the right time for moving out, but I am resigned to the opportunity.

I know that it will be difficult from now on, and I suppose that's what bothers me most; that I may or may not be able to replace the equipment I've lost. At this point, I don't guess its very important. There is time. I still need to grow a bit, and the solitude of my own place, even located where it is, will be a big help, so maybe I can write or draw a hell of a lot more than I have here.

I'm also writing to confess certain reservations.

I wonder sometimes about the wisdom of playing with Tony and Ted. Mike Peeler certainly offered the more artistically satisfying of the two offers, but I'm not convinced it could make money. And sadly, money is the main driving force for now and, most likely, for the immediate future.

But I'm trying not to sink this effort before its even begun.

I have certain reservations, but it will be good to play with a band again. I'm not sure this is the direction I want to go in indefinitely, but its better than the one I'm pursuing now. I made a decision. I bought the amp. For better or worse, I am a bass player again, and I have to make peace with whatever demons are trying to haunt me.

I just wish I could get rid of this feeling. Its a mixture of desire and impending doom. I'm not sure where it applies, but I feel it, and hope its simply nerves. Moving out is another big step, especially since I'm not convinced that I'm ready, but I also acknowledge that I need it. I had wanted to get some other things going before setting out upon the seas, but I'll take my chances and hope.